


His Name

by inwaves



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Analingus, Ass to Mouth, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Hotel Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Victor Nikiforov, Victor gets completely wrecked, negotiated rape fantasy, the dirty talk is really vulgar okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9193757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inwaves/pseuds/inwaves
Summary: Victor's been holding onto a fantasy of Yuuri Katsuki for a year.  Now that they're engaged and actually going back to his (their) hotel room after the Grand Prix banquet, he can have his fantasy enacted for real, in the flesh.But as usual, Yuuri is full of surprises.





	

Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov crashed into their Barcelona hotel room, already tangled and groping like they’d been waiting all night -- _all grueling-and-well-behaved-Grand-Prix-Final-Banquet_ \-- to do so.  

Because they had.

To be fair, they’d only been well-behaved compared to last year’s antics.  Which was a pretty high (low?) bar to clear.  This year, Yuuri had kept his clothes on and his crotch off of Victor’s leg.  Victor was only a little disappointed about that, because he was too excited about being with the love of his life to _really_ care.

And now he  _especially_ _couldn’t_ spare a brain cell for the relative mundane-ness the banquet, because Yuuri had him by the collar, pressed against the wall and was kissing him hard enough to split his lip.  

Yuuri’d only had two flutes of champagne this year, and Victor had matched his restraint with an equal amount of not-getting-trashed.  They both wanted to remember this one.  This night. There was something else Victor hoped to forget.

“The bed, Yuuri, please,” Victor whispered. Yuuri grinned up at him, tightened his grip on Victor’s lapels, and yanked him around a hard 180 degrees.  Then he pressed forward, causing Victor to trip on Yuuri’s advancing legs and fall back into the bed with little grace and even less air in his lungs.  Yuuri crashed down on top of him.

Yuuri leaned up on his arms, looking down at Victor’s flushed face, asking him questions with his eyes.  Victor appreciated Yuuri’s need for permission almost as much as he loved Yuuri wrecking him after that permission was given.

But this night was special, and it called for something…else.

“Yuuri,” he cooed, “You know, after last year’s banquet, I went to my room and fantasized about you?”

Yuuri’s eyes lit up.  He bit his lip. “Oh yeah?” he squeaked out, his throat betraying him.

“Yeah,” Victor replied, voice dripping with all the teasing sultriness he could muster. “I thought about what I’d hoped you’d do to me if you’d come up to my room with me that night.”

“Tell me,” Yuuri said, even more hungrily than Victor had hoped.  “Tell me what you wanted me to do.”

Victor sat up, kicked his shoes off behind Yuuri, and shimmied his way closer to the slatted headboard.  For reasons.  Then he laid down and took a deep breath.

“Wait,” Yuuri said, hastily yanking his tie loose enough to pull over his head and secure over his hair like a headband. “Okay.  Now tell me.”

Victor giggled.  He was so fucking in love.

“Well, you tackled me into the bed, hmm?  Then crawled on top of me.” He smiled  as Yuuri enacted his directions immediately. “I could feel your crotch pressing up against mine- ah!” he was interrupted by a gentle grind from his boyfriend, “as, as you took off your tie, and grabbed my hands...”

Yuuri looked down at Victor coolly, powerfully, and exactly as Victor had imagined it a year ago.  Victor thought his heart might stop, that this was the end already, _Rest In Peace_ Victor Nikiforov.  But he took a deep breath and pressed on. “…and you tied them together to the headboard.”

Victor stifled a moan as Yuuri leaned forward and did just that.  The silk of the tie tight around his criss-crossed wrists, his knuckles bumping against the cool wood, Yuuri’s entire weight on his hips and torso as he leaned forward…it was nearly too much.  Yuuri finished with a hard yank on the knot and leaned back.

Victor forgot himself for a moment, panting, steadily losing his breath as he tugged his wrists, the bondage feeling exactly as thrilling as he’d imagined it.  He loved it.  He loved being bound by Yuuri.  He loved Yuuri.

Yuuri touched Victor’s face and looked down at him, his expression gentler than before.  “Breathe, Victor.  Nice and slow.  Tell me what I did to you next.”

Victor took a deep breath, his dick getting too hard too fast against his lover’s bulge. “You leaned in and kissed my neck while you unbuttoned my shirt.”

Yuuri obliged and kissed Victor’s neck gently and chastely, which they both knew wasn’t at all what he’d meant.  “Tell me in detail, tell me how I did it,” he whispered against Victor’s neck.  Victor whined in response.

“You licked up my neck, and bit my ear – ah! – lobe. Mmm, th, then you p-put your tongue in my ear- Ahh!”  

Victor could barely keep himself together as Yuuri enacted his fantasy.  Somewhere between Yuuri’s tongue painting the shell of his ear and his hands weaving shirt buttons open, Victor was losing his ability to speak.  Only the first of many faculties he’d hope to be rid of by the end of the night.

But it was too early, _far_ too early for that.  With Victor’s shirt open and spread, Yuuri ghosted his hands across his trembling lover’s chest as he, between loving bites and licks at his ear, bit out, “Then what?”

“Then you started talking dirty to me and playing with my nipples,” he replied.

“Hmm,” Yuuri hummed, rubbing the pads of his thumbs in rough little circles. “I didn’t know Victor Nikiforov was such a slut.”

The words went right to Victor’s groin.

“I’m…not…” he gasped, trying to sound indignant but mostly sounding completely wrecked.  Yuuri grabbed one of Victor’s nipples between his fingers and pinched.

Hard.  

Victor yelled.

“No?  Then how come he’s getting off from having his nipples twisted by a man he just met?”

Victor moaned out again.  Yuuri grabbed Victor’s jaw with his other hand and jerked his face to the side, exposing the ear he hadn’t licked yet.  He leaned down and hissed into it, “If you’re not a slut, Victor Nikiforov, how come you like getting your ear fucked by a stranger’s tongue so much?”

Victor choked on his own moan as Yuuri dug his tongue into his ear, yelling and writhing against Yuuri’s weight, his nipple still twisted between Yuuri’s fingers.

“What next?” Yuuri demanded.

“N…next,” Victor panted, finding himself, “next…” He paused, taking another deep breath. “Next, you made me beg you to touch my cock.”

Yuuri licked his lips, eyes on fire, and it was almost enough to make Victor come right then.  Yuuri sat up and took his hands off of Victor’s body. “Tell me what you want,” he said cooly.

Victor pursed his lips and tried to shift his hips forward to regain some contact between their clothed dicks.

“Ah-ah,” Yuuri scolded, pulling his hips farther back.  “Tell me.”

Victor strained, eager for contact, arms tired from pulling against their restraints. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Where?”

“Please!” Victor moaned, “please!”

“Say it!” Yuuri demanded.

Victor’s chest heaved.

“Please touch my dick.”

“That’s a good boy,” Yuuri crooned, sliding his palm over Victor’s clothed and straining cock.  Victor bucked into it immediately. “You’re eager, huh?”

“Don’t tease me,” Victor bit.

Without missing a beat, Yuuri grabbed Victor hard by the jaw again. “Mouthy little slut.”

“Touch me,” Victor hissed.

“Beg for it.”

Victor huffed through his nose.

“Beg for me to touch you, Victor Nikiforov, or I’ll leave you tied up in this room right now and never come back.”

Victor groaned at the passing shadow of some of his darker neglect fantasies, but that was for another day.  Now, he whispered,  “Please touch my cock.”

“Hmm, I didn’t hear you.”

“Please,” he gasped, “please take off my pants and touch my cock.”

“Beg.”

“Please, Yuuri, please.  I need it,” he moaned.  “I need to feel you on my dick.  Please, God, please.” Victor was almost crying. “Touch me.  Touch me, please.”

“That sounds good.” Yuuri swiftly unbuckled Victor’s pants and shoved them down with his underpants to his knees, then completely off.  Then he wrapped a hand around Victor’s cock and squeezed.

“Ahhh!!!” Victor cried out, definitely louder than he ought’ve in a hotel.  But he was far past caring about that.

Yuuri’s hand stopped cold and it took Victor a minute to look up. When he did, ‘ _why the fuck did you stop’_ was written clearly across his face.

“ _Then_ ,” a pause. “ _What_?” Yuuri hummed sweetly.

Victor would have punched him in the face had his hands not been bound.

“Then you jerked my dick!  And fingered my asshole.  And sucked on me, and…and-”

“And what?” Yuuri sing-songed again, slowly running his fist up and down Victor’s length.

“And then you fucked me spectacularly while I screamed for you to stop.”

Yuuri’s expression softened again.  He crawled forward and leaned in close to Victor’s ear, hand soft on Victor’s dick all the while.  “Are you sure that’s how you want to do it tonight, love?”

Victor nodded against him.

“Say it out loud.”

“Yes, I want you to.  I want you to fuck me while I beg you not to.”

“You remember your codes?”

“I do.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said with a deep breath.  He sat up.  “Okay.”

Yuuri ran his hands over his scalp, resetting some of the loose strands into the wax of his slicked-back hair.  He looked into Victor’s eyes as he undid his own pants.  Yuuri was _on_.

“W…what are you doing?”  Victor asked.

“I’m gonna fuck you,”  Yuuri said, voice dark.

“N…no, we shouldn’t do this,” Victor said, his voice trembling from excitement; attempting to pass it off as fear.

“We should, and we’re going to,”  Yuuri replied matter-of-factly, shoving two of his fingers into Victor’s mouth as he started stroking his own cock with his other hand.

“Mmnnuhh!”  Victor protested.  Yuuri squinted his eyes and shoved his fingers hard into Victor’s throat, causing him to gag around them.  

He pulled them back out as Victor coughed. “Still mouthy?”

“Please, no—“ Victor begged between coughs. “No!”

Yuuri crawled up Victor’s body and held his dick right against Victor’s trembling lips.

“Please don’t, please,” Victor cried.

Yuuri grabbed Victor roughly by the hair. “Don’t think I don’t know how to shut you up.”

“Nnnnmmmm!”  Victor cried around Yuuri’s cock.  Yuuri thrust in and out of Victor’s mouth. Being tied to the headboard made the angle a little odd, but the view was exciting.

“Ah, that’s it. You like getting your mouth fucked.”

Victor moaned protests around Yuuri’s dick.  But he did.  He loved it.  He loved being subject to Yuuri.  He loved giving up control of…

Yuuri’s fists tightened in the back of Victor’s hair. “Choke on my dick, Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri pounded into Victor’s face, rattling his lover’s moans and cries.  Victor choked and screamed around him, his neck straining, his arms sore, his dick harder than it had ever been in his life.

But he didn’t want to die.  Victor kicked his leg up and stomped on the bed twice.

Yuuri jolted, then carefully and slowly pulled himself out.  He caressed Victor’s face lovingly as he worked out his gags and his coughs, gasping for air.  Victor knew that Yuuri was completely ready to stop, to untie him, to cuddle him into the next century. But two taps signaled “pause, but don’t break the scene,” and that was just as well.  Yuuri would give him give him anything, and Victor wanted this.

“Okay,” Victor said, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” Yuuri repeated.  He kissed Victor’s lips and then slid down his body.

Yuuri grabbed Victor’s dick and looked up at him over the rims of his glasses. “You understand what happens if you mouth off now, hmm?”

Victor nodded.

Yuuri licked up Victor’s cleft and across his asshole, making Victor jump.

“You like that?”  Yuuri asked, teasing.

“N…no,” Victor lied.

“Hmm?” Yuuri said, squeezing Victor’s cock in his fist unfairly.

“I…yes.”

“Say it.”

Victor’s breath hitched.  He loved it.  He loved it so much. “I… like…having my… asshole licked.”

Yuuri spared his hands for a moment to pull a toiletry bag out from under the bed. “Say it again.”

“I’m a…I’m a slut who likes having his asshole licked.”

Yuuri popped open the cap on the lube. “What do you want me to do, Victor Nikiforov?”

Victor shuddered again.  Every time Yuuri said his full name, it came with all the implications, all the baggage.  It came with everything about him. “Please fuck my asshole with your tongue,” he said.

“What a nasty, nasty slut,” Yuuri hummed, rubbing a wet finger idly over Victor’s anus.  Victor gasped. “Victor,” Yuuri said, licking playfully across his asshole, “Nikiforov,” he licked again. “Living,” again, harder. “Legend.”

Yuuri pushed the tip of his tongue into Victor, and Victor screamed in response.

“God, god!” Victor moaned, feet kicking against the sheets.  Yuuri dug his fingers into Victor’s hips to hold him still as he ate him out, roughly and sloppily. “God, please. Please!”

Yuuri wrapped his hands around Victor’s waist as he dug into Victor’s asshole with his mouth.  He pressed  his hands into Victor’s skin, as if he could touch his fingers together around the circumference of Victor’s body.  He couldn’t, but Victor loved feeling like he was being squeezed in half.

Victor screamed again, hips bucking.  Tears were streaming down his cheeks.  He was losing his mind. “Please,” he choked out.  “Please.”

Yuuri came up for air.  “Please what?”  He pulled a wet wipe out of the toiletry bag and scrubbed his face and lips.

“Please touch me.”

“Here?”  Yuuri said, shoving a finger too hard and too fast into Victor’s anus.

“AHH!” he screamed. “No, no, please touch my dick.  Please, I want to get off.”

Yuuri chuckled, and started thrusting his index finger in and out. “No, I don’t think so.”

Victor choked again. “Please, I’m gonna die.”  

Yuuri laughed again, shoving a second finger in.  It burned.  It was too fast, and exactly how Victor liked it. Little jolts of pain set his entire body on fire. He knew he would be safe if Yuuri was the one hurting him.

“Doesn’t matter to me if you do,” Yuuri said.  A new line. Dark implications. Victor flushed harder.  Yuuri started pounding his fingers into Victor.  Victor let his head roll back into the pillow, mind exhausted, and closed his eyes.

He was startled alert by a sharp slap of a hand across his thigh.

“Don’t you dare take your eyes off of me!”  

Victor yelped as Yuuri pulled his fingers out sharply.  Yuuri stared at him with heavy eyes and licked his lips. “Don’t look away. Watch me as I completely take you apart, Victor Nikiforov.”

With that, Yuuri thrust his cock into Victor. Again, too hard, too fast, and exactly like Victor liked it.

Victor screamed.

“Five time gold medalist.” Yuuri fucked hard, hands sliding up and down Victor’s thighs as he thrust.  Victor moaned. “Living legend.”

Victor’s eyes closed, his mouth hung open, and Yuuri would forgive the transgression as he railed him.

“Russia’s hero, getting his brains fucked out by some loser.”

Victor’s screams were turning into whining sobs.

“The world should see this,” Yuuri said, and Victor heard, somehow, among the wet slapping of hips, the sound of a phone being unlocked.  

He sobered immediately and looked up. “No, no, NO!”  

Yuuri slapped Victor’s thigh again and snapped his hips into him harder. “Yes,” he said, pointing the camera up and down Victor’s body. “Yes, everyone needs to see what a cockslut the legendary Victor Nikiforov is.”

“No, no, stop,” Victor sobbed, “please, you can’t, you can’t.”

At this rate, Victor wasn’t going to be able to walk tomorrow.  Yuuri had maybe one more chance to draw the game out before they both hit their limits.

He stilled and pulled his dick out, lowering his hand and pretending to focus the (completely turned off, Victor knew) phone on Victor’s asshole.

“No, no,” Victor continued to plead.

“Hi everyone!” Yuuri chirped to an imaginary audience. “Katsuki Yuuri here, fucking Victor Nikiforov to death.”  Victor moaned in response, sobbing again.

“Look at this slutty, hungry asshole,” he narrated, pushing the head of his dick against the opening. “Do you see how eager your legendary skater is to get his guts wrecked by my cock?”

It was almost too far; this was the nastiest stuff Yuuri had ever, ever said.

Yuuri shoved his dick back inside and Victor finally lost it entirely, lost all hold on his own body and thoughts as he yelled and cried.

If Victor met Yuuri where he was, then Yuuri brought him exactly where he’d wanted to go.

Yuuri began fucking him in earnest again.  Victor didn’t know at what point Yuuri had put down his phone or when Yuuri’s hands returned to his hips for the leverage to assist the absolute pounding he was getting.

Victor couldn’t make human noises anymore, only little gasps and whines escaping from his throat, tears flowing freely.  He’d lost hold of himself completely.

“Victor,” Yuuri said, groaning and rocking into him, coming close.  “Victor. _Victor Nikiforov_.”

Victor didn’t respond, just let himself be destroyed.  He was wet and sore and obliterated. It was perfect.

“That’s it,”  Yuuri cooed, “that’s it.  Forget your name. Forget who you are.  Forget who Victor Nikiforov is for one—“ he gasped, right at the edge, “for one minute of your life.” He grabbed the base of Victor’s dick and slid his hand up, and they were both coming; Victor gasping and Yuuri moaning; Yuuri filling Victor up, Victor spurting unevenly all over his own stomach as Yuuri screamed his name.

Victor saw white, and it was beautiful.

\---

Victor was clean and warm and tucked in tightly by the time he opened his eyes, and was only prompted to do so because something cold was being pressed against his lips.  His teeth clinked against the glass.

“Drink,”  Yuuri said.

Victor parted his lips and tilted his head best he could manage, and let Yuuri pour water into his mouth.  But he choked on it, sputtering liquid all over the both of them.

“Sorry, sorry, are you okay?”  Yuuri asked, nervous.  

Victor smiled groggily. “Let me hold it.”  He sat up with some effort and took the glass from Yuuri. His bicep burned as he raised it to his lips.  There were chafe marks on his wrists, and noticing them warmed him to his core.  He drank deeply through the burning of his tired throat.

Yuuri took the glass and put it back on the side table.

“Thank you,” Victor said.

“Can I cuddle you?” Yuuri asked.  Victor would have laughed, had he the energy to do so.  Instead he just nodded.  Yuuri curled up onto him and nuzzled his neck.  Victor shifted and, ah, yeah.  He was going to be sore in a lot of places tomorrow.

“Was it okay?”  Yuuri asked, voice nervous and earnest.  “Was it what you wanted?”

Victor sighed, smiling.  How exciting was it to find this adorable man who loved and cherished him, but could also do all of the things he wanted.  All of the breaking down, all of the putting back together.

“It was better.”

“Victor,”  Yuuri said, voice shaking.

“Using the phone…” Victor said, energy lost on the rest of the sentence.

“I’m sorry!”  Yuuri squeaked.

“No, my love. My darling.” Victor hugged his boyfriend with his one arm as best he could. “Don’t apologize.  I loved it.  I love your surprises.  You never fail…” Victor’s voice trailed off. “…to…”

Yuuri held his breath and listened to the sound of Victor’s breathing.  He heard it deepen and slow, and settle into his sleeping rhythm.

Yuuri exhaled.  He kissed a peck onto Victor’s collarbone. “I love you,” he whispered.

Yuuri leaned up to turn off the light on the table.

He settled back into his fiance’s arms.

“I love you, Victor Nikiforov.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, WOW this was indulgent. Thank you to my beta reader and incredibly excellent editor... you know who you are. If you actually want credit for refining this filth you ... just ...  
> Well, you let me know.  
> <3


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